


...and there we were, running down the main street, rather in flagrante if we're being entirely honest...

by CynicInAFishbowl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Justin has a middle name for every occasion, Justin is the essential 'confirmed bachelor', Obscuro 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 08:29:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8155702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicInAFishbowl/pseuds/CynicInAFishbowl
Summary: Oxbridge. All Muggle AU. Justin is the biggest toff this side of the boat sheds at Harrow. This is his story.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [obscuro_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/obscuro_2016) collection. 



In the second year of her PhD, Demelza Robins had certain priorities.

The first was her thesis, which she liked to refer to as ‘her first wife’; the second was her girlfriend Luna; and the third, much to everyone’s surprise, was her one shift per week as a barista at a cafe on campus. This ranked above the rowing she had been doing for years (and which had garnered her a scholarship for her undergraduate study), her family, and that cat which had been loitering around her apartment for a while.

There was, however, a reason. And that reason was one of the rowing lads, Justin ‘I may or may not have had sex with a duck once or twice’ Finch-Fletchley. Every Monday morning, Justin ‘#yolo’ Finch-Fletchley dragged a cabal of his various chums to a corner table of the cafe wherein she was casually employed, and every Monday morning Justin ‘RealLifeDickParty.com’ Finch-Fletchley regaled them with tales of his inevitably debauched weekend in the manner of the kind of toff who was already going out of date when Brideshead Revisited was being written.

Her three hour shift was always in its final stretch when Justin ‘Optimal torque’ Finch-Fletchley arrived, posse in thrall, and so she would hear the occasional snippet as she worked, before sitting down with him and a pot of Assam, and judging his life choices thoroughly. Justin ‘But Brutus is an Honourable Man’ Finch-Fletchley always bore such invective with astonishing good grace, if partially because (in his words) it was always safest not to argue with women who could bench-press oneself. The fact that her Twitter handle was @WhereAllTheDicksAt, and was nothing other than things she had overheard him saying certainly helped to soften the blow.

It would appear that the Justin ‘Catullus 16’ Finch-Fletchley was outdoing himself that morning, which meant that he had outdone himself the weekend prior.

The highlights of the weekend were as follows, in the order in which she overheard them, although she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how they could have been in chronological order.

“So I’ll admit I’m a bit hazy as to the details, but there were at least five ferrets.”

“So after it transpired that 60% of the Christchurch XV were if not flagrant homosexuals, at least occasionally inclined that way, everything just got a bit Roman. Incidentally, Zach, darling, you remember Evelyn Smith-Smythe-Smith, don't you? Vivian's younger brother? Vivian was in the year above us, Evelyn was in the year below. Anyway, flaming homo, hung like a fucking horse, abs that you just want to lick. 10/10 would repeat.”

“Somewhere between then and the fire brigade showing up, the home distillery apparently blew up.”

"Honestly, strap a penis on that girl and I'd have married her on the spot"

"One thing leads to another, and at midnight I'm in the town square, playing strip-giant chess against the chap who played Prince William in that shockingly bad film they made about him and Kate, and I'm losing badly."

"Not to slut shame, but if I'm inclined to judge, something went wrong somewhere"

“So apparently, you’re not meant to streak at rugby games… or soccer games… or waterpolo matches.”

"Not to slut shame, but if I'm inclined to judge, something went wrong somewhere"

“It would appear that when he said he spoke five languages, he had neglected to mention that two of them were, in fact, fellatio.”

“I’ll admit that by then I wasn’t necessarily paying all that much attention, but I do remember the phrase ‘state sovereignty’ being bandied about rather more than the baseline for that kind of thing in polite conversation.”

“Et in terra pax hominibus and all that jazz, if you know what I mean.”

“If my snap-story is anything to go by, I may have been conscripted into a Korean music video because, if my Korean is correct, and I think we can all agree that it probably isn’t, I look like a baby giraffe absolutely off its tits on opiates. Which may not have been what they actually said, but I do feel really encapsulates my aesthetic.”

“And that was when I remembered that you should always email as if it’s going to be read out in a deposition in five or so years, which by now I’m pretty bloody sure it will be, so all of that got deleted, and then I cleared my browsing history for good measure.”

“And then he introduced us to five girls, all of them absolutely horse-faced, and I say that in the kindest way possible, all of whom were invariably named Josephine.”

“Just about the most Public School thing since buggery behind the boatsheds.”

Once her shift was complete and the friends of Justin ‘And lo from the hilltops came the lamentations of women’ Finch-Fletchley had wandered off, looking rather shell-shocked, she sat down on the sofa where he reclined in a manner which was somehow simultaneously reminiscent of Sebastian Flyte and Julius Caesar.

“You really are the most inveterate hussy.” She pointed out, kissing him on the cheek and pouring herself a cup.

Justin ‘Don’t knock it until you try it’ Finch-Fletchley smirked slightly. “Don’t pretend that you don’t love it. I know for a fact that this is the one shift a week that you work and that you earn more than double teaching labs to first-years.”

Demelza shrugged and took a sip. “Justin, my dear, sweet darling, you know that nothing brightens my mondays like hearing all about how you absolutely debauched yourself on some kind of horrific bender. Also, your dear sister asked me to keep an eye on you. How is Evangeline anyway?”

"Oh yes, Evangeline's doing terribly well,” Justin ‘Got milk’ Finch-Fletchley confirmed, “mother and father are just thrilled about their daughter the behavioural therapist who's doing terribly well for herself in New York, I don't think they've quite cottoned on to the fact that she's a professional dominatrix.”

Demelza, who had gone to school with Evangeline Louisa Veronique Regina Finch-Fletchley, was wholly unsurprised. Her first guess upon their graduation had been ‘dictator of a mid-sized South American country’, but she had to admit that dominatrix was a close second. From what she heard, given the current oil price, the pay was better.

Justin ‘Hell hath no fury’ Finch-Fletchley sighed, stretched, and hopped to his feet. “As delightful as this invariably tends to be, I really must head off. Places to go, honours students to debauch. The usual. Same time next week?”

Demelza raised her eyebrows as if to say ‘I’ll be seeing you at training thrice or fourfold before then, you twat’, but by the time her eyebrows had fully ascended to their piercingly sarcastic zenith, Justin ‘Oh shit I forgot to appease the groupwork deities’ Finch-Fletchley was out the door and off predating upon the student populace, as was his way and his wont.

 


End file.
